


Maneater

by Janina



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Creepy, F/M, Halloween, Horror, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Sansa is a maneater.





	

Jon wanted Sansa Stark the moment he met her. He wanted her from the top of her long, gorgeous red hair to the tips of her pink-painted toenails.  
He dreamed about her. About her sleek legs that went on for miles wrapped around his waist as he moved inside her. About the spot on her neck just behind her ear that the wanted to lay his lips on, and her perfect breasts he wanted to feel pressed up against his chest. He could almost feel how wet her cunt would be as he glided in and out of her, making her cum again and again...

He'd wake with a moan and take himself in hand, moaning and spilling onto his stomach with her name on his lips. 

Sansa Stark was a mystery to him. To most people in King's Landing actually. She kept to herself; she didn't give much away in conversation - all he knew about her was she was an OBGYN, the only doctor in her family, and she lived on Maple. She asked all the questions, and never gave anything away. You didn't even realize you'd learned nothing until after, when you went over the conversation and realized you'd learned nothing. 

Jon wanted to know everything. 

So when he saw her come into the bar he was at one evening, he bought her a drink and sat down beside her at the bar. She was tucked in the corner as though she didn't want to be noticed. Did she have a clue how gorgeous she was? How she could never go unnoticed because it was impossible for her to just blend in? 

They chatted about their day, Sansa just saying how everything went well and she couldn’t complain. “Everyone in King’s Landing has been so nice,” she said. “I already feel at home here.”

Jon smiled, liking the sound of that. “I’m glad. So, are there any broken hearts left behind from where you came from?”

She smiled, but just a wisp of one, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Perhaps.”

“Any that will come after you here?” _Please say no._

She shook her head. 

_Thank God._

“What about you, Jon Snow? Anyone claim you yet?”

“No,” he replied, and thought guiltily of Ygritte. She was a girl he’d known all his life, and while they weren’t necessarily dating, they weren’t necessarily not dating either. And they were definitely fucking. 

Until Sansa came to town anyway. Despite Ygritte’s growing frustration with him, he hedged when it came to defining their relationship, especially now. Now with Sansa here. He simply couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else, but he didn’t want to tell Sansa that. It would make him sound like a dick for essentially leaving Ygritte hanging. 

It was just that when it came to Sansa, he couldn’t bloody think. Lust, pheromones, the fact that she was new and shiny and so goddamned beautiful he couldn’t stand it – whatever it was, Jon could not get enough. 

They had another drink together – this time her treat – and then Jon offered to walk her home. Once they were outside though, Sansa told him she wanted to see his place as she’d heard he’d built the log cabin house himself. 

He had. And he couldn’t wait to show her. Plus, fuck, he hoped this meant he could have her. He thought he might die if he couldn’t have her. 

They walked slowly, talking about this and that, and Jon offered his arm like a gentleman. She took it, and he thought: This is what it would be like if she was mine. My girl. My Sansa. 

And he wanted it. Christ, did he want it. 

When they arrived at his house, he gave her a tour. He watched her inspect everything as though she was truly interested in the architecture of the place and the care he’d put in to building it. 

When she ran her fingers over a piece of furniture, he wanted to the thing she touched. That she just ran the tips of her fingers over. He stalked her about the living room, watching her, wanting her, aching for her. 

At last she turned to face him and he was right there, pushing her against a wall, his hands digging into her hips. 

“Are you sure you don’t have a girl, Jon?” she whispered. 

He thought briefly, only very briefly of Ygritte. “I’m sure.”

And then he kissed her. Oh, God, it was the kiss to end all kisses. She was so sweet, so perfect and soft. He wanted her naked and on his bed. 

“Let me have you, Sansa,” he whispered urgently. “Please let me have you.”

“Yes, yes,” she hissed and moved back, heading towards his bedroom. 

He pulled her back to him, lifted her up in his arms, and carried her there while she nuzzled the side of his face and his neck. 

Once in the bedroom, clothes were discarded expediently. She scrambled onto the bed, and leaned back on her elbows right in the middle of his black sheets. She crooked a finger at him, and he pounced. 

Finally, finally, he got to taste her pert breasts and suck on her cherry red nipples. He made a path of kisses down her stomach and then, finally, to her cotton candy cunt. It was so pink, and it tasted so fucking sweet and good…

He loved how she tugged on his hair, making his scalp sting a bit. It only made him work harder to make her cum. This was his dream after all. 

When she cried out his name, wetting his face with her syrup, Jon kissed his way back up her body and then settled between her legs. “Do I need a condom?” he rasped. 

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I’m on the pill.”

He lifted her legs and pushed them back. He glided inside her effortlessly. He’d made her so fucking wet and hot, and fuck, it was glorious. 

They fell into an easy rhythm, but soon, all too soon, Jon needed more. He needed it harder. Faster. 

So did she. She rolled them over and started to ride him hard and fast. She threw her head back and Jon felt his release coming. “Fuck, yes, Sansa! Yes!” he shouted. 

She angled back to face him and once she did, Jon cried out. Not from pleasure, but from fear. 

Sansa was smiling, or at least he thought she was. Her mouth wide, too wide, nearly stretching from each ear. And her teeth – they were like needles, and thick like stakes, long and pointy and he couldn’t see any bottom to them, only the tops. 

“I know all about Ygritte," she said. "Naughty boy." 

He opened his mouth to shout for help just as Sansa went for his heart with her teeth.


End file.
